Look into the mirror. Do it everyday. You’ll see reflections you’ve never seen before. Some say it’s like waking up on Christmas morning, while others simply detest it.

I foolishly thought I’ve fully undergone acculturation at my workplace. Somehow I still feel singled out at times. My boss asked me once what language do I prefer speaking in. I told them Thai as I wanted to improve my conversational skills. In spite of that, I still feel like I’m being jeered at, “English speaking yellow kid.”

No, I am not releasing a box office hit movie showcasing my singing prowess and dancing abilities, I wish. Today’s marks the end of my year-long research, whether I pass or not, that will be a different case. My presentation is up in an hour and a half. I’m the first actually, out of the tens of other linguistics postgrad students. God please make me feel warm all over.

Oh? So what makes us third world is how much our country and its fellow citizens earn annually?

This is word vomit so please forgive me if I let loose and reduce myself to profanity.

My Kitchen. The damned kitchen. No. It’s actually my damned housemates. See, they don’t give a fiddler’s fart about the kitchen. I’ve never come across people like these. Really. I know not all Aussies are filthy, but having visited some other friends’ place, gosh I feel like a LARGE amount of the locals here don’t give a fishcake about personal hygiene or cleanliness. They consider us third world countries, but let me tell you something. Yes, Sabah or any other Asian countries may not be spick and span, but let me tell you something, you Bogans from the Land Down Under, you ain’t clean yourselves. You’re so freaking lazy to clean up after yourself that you pay a crapload of tax money to your government to hire cleaners. You’re so damned ignorant that you don’t mind throwing a paper bag down the drain knowing that your tax money is paying someone else to pick up after you. For that reason, that makes you more civilized than us? I’ve never met people so unmotivated or unprogressive. For you who are not aware, jobless people get government support here. They get about 100 – 200 bucks a week. Oh what? My uni fees is being streamlined to pay for locals to study here? Not only are my parents’ money being used to support Bumiputeras in their quest for educational advancement which they will use to smack us in our faces with… us being those who come from Borneo, the less civilized island. Oh? Australians are civilized? Really? Gosh people here are so fat they drink coke and walk around sans shoes/thongs, and what? They go around almost naked, oblivious to the fact that the sun here kills so many Aussies in a year (skin cancer). Now tell me who’s more civilized? Oh yeah, yesterday, I was coming home after teaching my student at the ESL center. There were two Asians walking ahead of me, and all three of us passed this group of Aussie teens smoking. This was still within the compounds of the university but obviously these teens were still in high school or probably drop outs (what’s the point of finishing your education anyway when the government gives you free money?) They approach me since I was the last one on the path, it was not dark yet, but there was just very few people walking that route back. They asked me for the time. Well, if you guys know me well enough, you’d know that I don’t wear a watch. So I told them that I’m sorry I don’t have the time, and I walked away. They told me to fuck off, and I’m pretty sure there’s no other way of saying that in a more polite way. I didn’t take offense, as I learned from these people here that you can ignore whatever people say to you. I walked a few meters and looked back and they were still staring at me, like hawks, ready to strike. I quickened my pace and instead of going through the tunnel where they could easily catch up with me and do mean things to me in the tunnel, I climbed over the fence and walked on the highway, which almost all university students do. Initially I wasn’t sure if I wanted to walk on the highway since it was drizzling and you would not want a car crashing into you on the slippery road. But I took my chances, either get knocked down by a car or getting beaten up in the dark tunnel. I chose the former. I made it in one piece. I called security, I hope they tell those bastards off. People have been assaulted in the tunnel before.

Oh yes, what inflicted this angst? Well here is the kitchen after my Aussie housemate decided to have a baking spree on Monday. It’s Tuesday now by the way. He takes about one week to clean up.

None of my housemates take out the trash

None of them bothers to scrub the stove. Seriously. The last time I did it was back in winter. I was just tired of cleaning up their filth after that.

I’m not trying to stir a theological debate here, but one that affects us culturally. There are times when I feel that the culture that I was brought up in handicaps my capabilities. The notion of ‘face’ is always smacked straight into my face. I’m sure there are many of us who find ourselves torn in situations like this. I’m not only saving my own face, but the face of others’ around me as well. I can’t help it, can you? We know we are progressive beings who, at times, need to prioritize our own well-being. But coming from a culture where social relationship is foremost the most vital aspect, face saving appears to be hindering us from achieving our full potential.

I went to a friend’s house yesterday. My friend’s housemate is an Adventist and goes to church, occasionally. Recently, he met a divorcee/widow who’s a decade older and they’ve been living together. I’ve also encountered him at the uni pubs on my way back from class. I’m not judging him but the bumping into him is so awkward. This all started about a month ago when I bumped into him on my way to class. I greeted him with a ‘hello’ and he responded with a ‘sorry.’

Literally. This and That. My guy who supervises me at my workplace told me before that I should never stuff the dishwasher with too many items. Also, I should try to wash the same items at one go. That means, don’t mix plates with pots, don’t mix cups with spoons, etc. Well yesterday, another dude came in to fill in for my supervisor (supervisor is back in Thailand holidaying). There was a birthday dinner going on and it went on till half past ten. That means I have heaps and heaps of soiled dishes to do, plus pots, and stoves to wash. Well, I was trying to make sure I did what my supervisor did. Suddenly this new guy (he’s not new, he’s been working there longer than me) comes in and tells me to step aside while he ‘shows’ me how to do it. He was quick I must say. But he stuffed everything together. I wasn’t sure whether or not tell him that my supervisor it was done differently. I kept quiet of course, but I was very tempted to tell him, “But Ben (my supervisor) told me otherwise!!” He kept looking back at me, and tell me that he understands that I’m new here and that I’m slow. I just smiled and gave him the ‘whatever’ look.

One of my restaurant colleague is in a dilemma now. His girlfriend in Thailand found out that he’s been fooling around with another girl here. Is this a Thai-thing? I’ve got lots of Thai friends who are never content with one girl.

Came back at midnight light night because there were three customers lingering around the restaurant. The owners (Thais) told us to clean the kitchen quietly. How are we supposed to tone down the cleaning when we’re vigorously scrubbing walls and the floor? So much for being Asians. The funny thing was all them were complaining afterwards that the three customers did not give any gratuity. Ahhahaha.. back at you!!!!

Last night I broke a cup, but I escaped the wrath of the boss. Not that the boss will kill me if I broke something. Let’s leave it at there :P

No, I didn’t get any piercings, my slipper did. I found a thumb-tack stuck to the bottom of my thongs this morning after my shower. I’m inclined to think that someone must have left it lying around on purpose… but who would be so spiteful? I was, a couple of days ago – I shook a very very filthy kitchen towel (and I mean DIRTY, used to wipe counter tops and soak oil) over my housemate’s cake. Why did I do it? Well, angst and hatred have been accumulating over the past few weeks. After my housemate baked a lovely cake for himself and his gf, he had the guts to leave it on the kitchen, not forgetting the mess as well. This particular tea towel, it’s blue. None of us except for the housemate-who-baked-the-cake use it. That, too, he left lying on the table next to the cake. It looked so inviting, not the cake, but the tea towel. So I took the tea towel, imagined I was in a Chinese opera where the characters prance around with a piece of silk hankie, and gave it a good shake over the cake. I saw flakes falling, multicolored flakes, like those multi-colored chemically induced stuff that one would find on cheap cakes. Need I continue? I felt really good after that. Concise did kick in after a while, but that really felt good, in a bad way.

It was my first time to be in a kitchen of a busy restaurant. Last night soiled plates kept coming in from the moment I started work till the restaurant closed at 10. It took me another hour to finish up all the other utensils the cooks used in the kitchen. Didn’t get paid. Will get paid on Sunday. Bleh…

Malaysia, a country a call my own, has set rather strict ‘surface’ rules when it comes to visiting performers like Beyonce. Artistes who went their way to meet fans in this part of SEA have had to abide to the country’s conservative. Those who expose a lil’ bit of themselves end up being scrutinized and fined. But hey, these artistes are rich… to them getting fined would probably be like paying for a parking ticket.

I can’t imagine Beyonce singing Diva or All the Single Ladies or Crazy in Love clad in a blanket. Btw, have you seen how Malaysian artistes dress? It’s nothing different than how Beyonce dresses up. Cleavage is shown; figure-accentuating costumes; etc. Some high ranking official mentioned that Malaysia does not need any of Beyonce’s sexy moves. Damn right she’s sexy… and nobody in Malaysia can beat her sexiness. That’s a valid reason for her to come, to show Malaysia who’s the real Diva in the music industry.

On a different note, there’s another dust storm raging outside. Don’t we just love the weather these days? Yesterday started out hot with the sun out, then it rained cows and pigs last night, this morning I woke up to orangey skies. What next? A tornado? I do hope so. I’d like this wretched pig sty I’m living in get bombed by a flying oil tanker. It’s not too much of a request is it?

I probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed (for me to be writing posts like this on such a lovely dusty day), but it I think it’s because I woke up alone again (nahh… I’m just a little edgy because last night I went to bed and half past ten and still I couldn’t sleep. bleh)

Incidents at my work place – Boss to Daron, “Daron, please cook one rice!” Daron to Boss, “Yes, Boss! One rice coming up!” As I reach into the bucket where they store rice, my eyes quickly jump from one rice (what’s the classifier for rice?) to the other. It’s SO hard to pick out which RICE that deserves to be boiled and served to the customers later. I finally have my pick, I wash the rice twice with cold water, and then measure a droplet of hot water to boil the rice with. I do all of these in a large 10 liter rice pot. Please cook onerice please people.

My two weeks of midterm holidays came to end yesterday. It’s back to the grind now. I still three more weeks of classes, a presentation of my research project, and finally my internship (which begins this week) and will run till the middle of November. I have about two to three weeks to linger around before I board the Singapore Airlines’ A380, where I’ll be sitting in 38G (aisle seat) sipping a Bloody Mary (just joking?) while watching and listening to the latest movies and music :) Can’t wait!

no, I’m not talking about the machine. I’m talking about the person that actually does the dishes.

WEAR GLOVES!!!

Last night, at work, I decided to don the green rubber gloves that were hanging right in front of me in my temporary glamorous career as a dishwasher (is there another name for a person who washes dishes, ‘dishwasher’ rings strange in my ears').

Last night, I got told off for talking on the phone for 1:32 minutes. As far as I can remember, I had already finished my dishes, and right after I was told off, the boss’ phone rang and she went away chit-chatting happily. Oh, so the boss can do it and the DIVA can’t??!?!?!?!

This week, I trimmed my hair. I don’t know how I did it but I managed, with a pair of scissors of course.

It’s the first of October today. For some reason I thought i was Halloween last night, must have been all those horror movies I’ve been watching lately. Oh, I watched Jennifer’s Body and there’s this hot scene where Jennifer (Megan Fox) and ‘Needy’ (I forgot the actor’s name) made out. Hot!

I’m writing essays now. Switching between one and the other every ten minutes. Its amusing how I complicated my thoughts with two unrelated essays.

Cinderella at work. I scrub dirty dishes, put them into the dishwasher, dry them, stack them up properly. I cut my finger last night, thanks to the silliness of a waitress who stacked the plates so high that it keeled over into the sink and broke into a million pieces. I was picking out the broken pieces and accidentally cut myself. When I got to work yesterday, the ‘evil stepmother’ (not my stepmother, and she’s not evil AT ALL), asked me to have dinner first (they usually prepare dinner for us and supper after the work is done), that is after I repeatedly refuse due to the vast amount of dirty dishes and pots and whatnot. So I was enjoying my food, when she approached me, with all smiles, telling me to cook rice. Touched by the sweetness of her face, I told her I will. I resumed eating. She came back again, and smiled, and said, “Daron, when I ask you to cook rice, I mean NOW!”

In my mind, Gosh lady, you told me to eat and now you want me to cook rice, what do you actually want?!?!?”

Cinderella got a pair of glass shoes, a prince, and a happy ending. I returned home with monetary reward which is temporal, a small container of green curry, and wet and dirty shoes. My ending wasn’t that great either, I discovered a giant zit on my neck, and the kitchen in a total wreck. Someone was baking cake and left all the gooey mess.

Aussie Bloke: Yeah, it was awesome. Balinese people are the nicest bunch. Have you been there before?

Daron: Oh, I have yet to set foot in Indonesia.

Aussie Bloke: Huh?

Daron: Mmm, Bali’s in Indonesia, and I’ve never been to any parts of Indonesia.

Aussie Bloke: Isn’t Bali a country?

Daron: Creak.

FYI – Aussies love Bali, for some reason. They get treated like royalty when they’re over there, plus everything is very cheap. Just like in Australia, they pick fights with the Asians (locals of Bali) even when on a foreign land.

I’ve been here since the 15th of February and I’ve been scouring around for a job. Finally, after much waiting I got one. Though it’s only a one day thing (due to schedule conflicts), my employer said that she’ll try to work something out for me so I can drop by more than once a week. Oh, I haven’t mentioned, I’m washing dishes at a Thai restaurant.

I was waiting for my friend at the train station yesterday so she could take me to the restaurant. As I was waiting, a train pulled up and out came a man. There were Train Officers at the station and they asked him to move back from the train that was now leaving. The man ignored their request and pulled up his shirt and rubbed his nipples on the train window, giving the passengers an eyeful. All four Train Officers then grabbed the man and had to pin him down. Later the Train Officers were joined by police officers, who charged him for offensive behavior.

At the restaurant everyone was hospitable and polite – very typical of the Thais, of course. They showed me how to operate the dish washer (I’ve forgotten how to do it), and told me where the different dishes were kept. I started doing the dishes and two of the guys who were in charge of me kept telling me to go faster. I tried my best but I wanted to make sure all the dishes were clean. They, on the other hand, were talking with the other cooks and the restaurant owner. I was thinking, how am I supposed to go faster when you’re there talking instead of working – I’d definitely feel like I don’t need to go faster.

I was washing till 10 pm then one of the guys came over and told me to move over while he washed. He was fast, but the dishes that he did weren’t that clean.

Oh, I got another job, as a movie extra. They told me they’d call me to reconfirm after I have told them if I could make it to all the days of the shooting. Unfortunately I am not able to make it for one of the shootings. Hopefully they’ll still take me :)

It just makes me wonder how the people here can tolerate strangers mocking them. Yesterday I went to the beach with a church friend, and he had the Knights jersey on. We were heading towards the water, passing by a group of fat Aussie teens and they started calling my friend a freakin’ Knights bleep. I could’ve easily called them fatsos but I didn’t. It’s just plain stupid. They don’t like it when they are called names yet they find it unproblematic to taunt on others.

Anyway, this is the beach I was at. Noby’s Beach. I laid around shirtless reading a book. It’s nice when you have a big beach to almost yourself.

racist housemate called my korean housemate a north korean and called us chinese communists. it’s just pathetic to see how uncultured some people may be. and the misconception that anyone with blond hair and blue eyes and fair skin is superior than the rest makes me nauseous. i’m angry but i’m silent. no point feeding more coal into the flames.

In retrospect, I’ve had countless weeks waiting for this very moment. I’m halfway through the semester: 3 more weeks to go before the 2-week mid semester break, followed by another 3 more weeks of classes, then the semester would be over by then. There is the internship that will be going on after school wraps up but I’m not so worried about that :)

Thanks to the massive amount of stress I have been ‘receiving’ I have successfully cropped nasty zits on my forehead and on the base of my jaw. They are now dark brown with a visible white tip – an acne volcano ready to erupt and spew out thick gooey green puss.

I’ve been returning from Uni late in the evenings. Not a very wise thing to do but I found that I accomplish more whilst being there. I don’t trust myself in the bedroom, things can turn pretty wild. One moment I’m sitting on my desk, the next I’m comfortably snoozing on my bed. Like this:

oh by the way, I am totally sold out to twittering now :P ehhehehe

muahahahahahaha

I’ve made egg sandwich and spaghetti to be brought to school later, sungguh sedap!

Picture taken from the bus stop I was waiting at. The structure with the curved roof is the bigger bus stop.

Since arriving here, I’ve heard a lot of stories about International Students getting beaten up or mugged or both. At times I was skeptical when I was told about stories like this, but I believed it, most of the time. We can’t deny that word of mouth is sometimes sensationalized.

On Thursday nights, shops all over Newcastle will open longer than usual. This is to give students as well as other people the chance to do some late night shopping or simply hang around. Last Thursday night, Bill, Jen, and myself were at the bus stop waiting for Bill’s bus to come. It was half past eight and we were at a bus stop waiting for Bill’s bus to arrive. We talked for a bit, and realized that we were supposed to wait at the smaller bus stop facing the larger one. We crossed the road and walked towards the bus stop. There were only the three of us at the bus stop, while a rather large crowd (mostly Asians – International students of the Uni) have gathered waiting for the University bus to take them back to their dorms. I saw this guy in a black shirt and white pants walking quickly around the bus stop, I didn’t notice him before, so I guess he must have just arrived when I notice him. He was speaking loudly to a group of three male students. Soon after, he started counting, and started punching the guys, I was appalled. The guys ran and left their things there, a fourth guy came and asked what was going on and the white guy started punching him as well. Even though there were four guys over there, the white guy was clearly larger than them. It also happened too fast that I think everyone panicked. People started walking, no, running away. Soon, the bus stop was empty. My friends and I ran too. We ran towards the trees behind the bus stop. As sudden as the bloke appeared, he made his quick escape with a car. He sped away, never to be seen again.

I was totally freaked out. I’ve never seen anything like that before. We decided to walk back to my house because it was already pass the time the bus should’ve arrived. The next one would come about at 9:43 pm. At half past nine, Bill and I went to the bus stop closer to my house. Jen had already gone back. We were there, waiting for the bus to come and I was praying hard so no one would mug us. From the corner of my eye I saw a shadow quickly moving towards us. My eyes took in the light and focused in the darkness. I saw an Aussie teenager riding his push-scooter, or whatever those things are called. He rode pass us, and was about to make a turn when a red toyota suddenly pulled up in front of him. This happened about 10 meters away from us. Four guys came out and started shoving the scooter guy around, one of them took his scooter and started smashing it on the road. I watched in disbelief as Bill quickly took my arm and both of us started running. As we ran, we saw headlights ahead of us, the 226 Bus which Bill was to take had stop at a bus stop about 100 meters ahead of us. Both of us ran to the road and started waving. Thankfully the driver saw us. He waited until Bill got there. I said my goodbyes and ran back home.

In Australia, these people are called Bogons. A month ago there was a survey conducted to see which town had the most Bogons, I didn’t check to see if Jesmond or Newcastle had a hihg population of bogons. Since I didn’t grow up with Bogon in my vocabulary, I’d rather think of these people as Ungrateful Inglorious Bastards who are intoxicated almost the whole time they forget that the WE THE INTERNATIONAL STUDENTS ARE PUMPING IN SO MUCH MONEY SO THAT THEY COULD HAVE A CHEAP/FREE EDUCATION. If they are so uninterested in Education, the government might as well lower our tuition fees. As far as I can recall, I didn’t pay to come here to be harassed.

I lightly toasted the bread, put cheese, lettuce, and chili sauce (because I like to spice up stuff) over the egg+mayonnaise spread

Cut them eggs like there's no tomorrow

Dua Biji Telur

Tom to Bottop: Pictures arranged counter clockwise. Now I'm sitting with my classmate Jen and her buddy Bill in the Flower's Reading Room, and the rest are the pictures of the process of me preparing my brunch.

I've noticed that I've been skipping breakfast and having big lunches instead. Good or not? We'll find out.

Today the sky was littered with little puffy clouds which seem to bounce about in the air currents that were blowing dry leaves all over the yard. Spring is here!

I went to a Christian group meeting, called the Student Life group, and we talked about prayer. It was a really good experience as I haven't had any worships during school since graduating from college. Looking forward to the next meeting next Tuesday. :)

which is today. I was limping around the house and crawled up stairs at University – this is what happens when non sports enthusiasts run around crazily in a game of touch rugby. Putting the pain into perspective, I think I should consider jogging rather than confine myself to the exercise rope and push ups I do in the room.

Why was I playing touch rugby yesterday – there was a church picnic. I’ve never played rugby before, except for that one time in our Customs and Culture of the English Speaking World class a few years ago. I think I’d stick to the game of tag and hide and seek that I played while growing up… and maybe badminton.

(Warning: the following sentence has Australian colloquial) “Some pictures of me mates at the barbie yesterday, totally had fun with all of yous!!”

Yesterday I wore a pair of pants I haven’t worn since May. I found out that they now fit snugly around my waist. I wish I had more pants like that. I’m tired of having pants that fall of your arse every time you strut your stuff.

I wonder why it took me several days before posting up anything with regards to my birthday. I’m guessing the effects of aging is getting to me. Oleh itu, gunalah Olay Total Effects to slow [cheat] the signs of aging.

After church last Sabbath, I thought I’d had a barbeque at home. It was a spur of the moment thing as I wasn’t planning to do anything for my birthday. My housemate and I found an empty paint can at the backyard and turned that into a stove, and I went to Woolies to buy chicken wings, marinade, and a cooling tray (to put over the stove). We barbequed till midnight. That’s all.

I landed my first real job at the age of 22; moved to another country at the age of 22; broke up again at the age of 22; played less piano at the age of 22. Those are by far the most significant things that have happened last year when I was younger. Now that I’m older I wonder what 23 will have in store for me.

These are what I got for my birthday

Hello Hydration by Herbal Essences, both shampoo and conditioner

“Jackal” by ZU –Kasut panjang ala-ala wicked witch of the west

My friends bought me a bowl of Laksa the day after my Birthday at school.

Today. Just the thinking about the spelling of “today” makes me wince and squirm. I’m supposed to be at the Treehouse Room right now, helping my boss lure volunteers into the meetings he’s conducting. I had to actually drag myself there, and I dragged myself back home to get my phone. On my way back, I thought to myself, “Man, you’d walk all the way back just to get your phone.” Once, my friend, Nicholas Kirchberg, told me that he wished that humanity wouldn’t be slaves to technology. I’m a slave, no not for you, but for my phone. It’s my time keeper. I don’t have a watch so I always check my phone for the time.

Time. Last week we were talking in our semantics class how we measure time. Time is very abstract, we can’t see it, but we measure it with the movements of objects, such as the sun or the moon. We also perceive time in a spatial way. If I asked you to measure “lots of time” with both your hands, what would you do? You’d definitely set them far apart from each other, and vice versa if you were to measure “little time” with your hands. Not knowing what time it is, to me, is like free falling through the sky. You’re out of control. You fall and fall. You become subject to the force of gravity.

I need my time.

Okay, I’m done with my babbling about time. This evening, I’ll be meeting a certain lecturer who is in charge of my research. Hmmm, last week’s meeting didn’t go quite well because I answered his questions with imaginary numbers that my mouth blurted out. Man, speaking nonsense is so fluid. You don’t need waste electrons in your brain, per se.

Well, this evening. I will be more prepared, I hope. I’ll meet the lecturer with a demeanor that only my alter-ego can do:

Pasta with lots of cheese; Butter-grilled sandwiches with cheese and corned-beef fillings :)

OMG DID IT SNOW?!?!? …. it’s just soap suds…. there was a big party on campus last Friday. Students were running around with their boxers, drunk, pissing in the bushes, and giving everyone else high fives. It’s quite interesting though because even with the ruckus going on, the campus was still quite clean… just look at the fountain, someone wanted to clean the fountain and emptied a whole box of detergent… hehe

I was in this singing group called “Barefooters.” The group’s meager beginnings started off in 2006. We did a couple of songs for church, sang for our very own group member’s wedding. We sang because all of us had a passion for music. Besides that, all of us liked each other’s company. Members left and new singers joined us. Soon enough, we started bringing food to practices. The munching and talking afterwards were always the highlights of our practices. The bond that we have built through the many days spent together was the force that actually helped us sing better. There’s nothing else better than doing something you enjoy for someone you adore with the people whose company you cherish, people whose barefootedness won’t cause you any awkwardness… someone whom you would go barefoot with.

These days, I’ve got the church band to fellowship with. It’s different. But it is very similar to what the experiences I’ve had with my Barefooter singers. After every band practice, we would gather in a circle, and have a sharing session, which we will wrap up with prayer.

No other group could ever give me what the Barefooters had to share. I really miss the friendship and the time spent together. On the other hand, I’m very grateful that I’ve got these new friends here in Newcastle.

This is it people. The end of the first week of the second semester. I have 12 more weeks of classes to attend. Not forgetting the many papers that are due… feeling bad for all those trees turned into paper now...

I went to Uni this morning to pay my fees and to meet up with this dude

this is the tunnel which I go through everyday. very symbolic. we go through tunnels everyday. sometimes there’s the light at the end… sometimes there’s none.

strange paintings in our semantics class. we were talking about lexemes having real world value… which led us to discussing whether or not prepositions and articles have any real world value… sounds trivial… my lecturer based his dissertation on this topic… i still think it’s a ‘tabloid’ topic.

I bumped into Mr. and Mrs. Duck (i’m just assuming that they’re a couple) this morning. They were quacking and waddling along. Wonder what their perspective on prepositions and articles are.

Well, despite the names you would call my house, it was cleaned today. I was all cinderella, minus the fairy tale happy ending, and the ball and gown since having a dress with a big bow isn't really my cup of tea.

I scrubbed the kitchen floor and washed the bathroom... saw some brown streaks of encrusted **** on the side of the vanity, I'm not even gonna start describing what that was.

A friend of mine just reminded me that if you are in the Australian Education system, you're bound to have the most HOLIDAYS you've ever imagined having in the years of being a student. Schools here have two major holidays, one is the winter holidays, from June to the end of July, and the summer holidays, which is from November to end of February. C'mon people, get your calculators out and start counting the months you have off from school!!!!! wooohoooo

sadly, the semester started today. I bumped into a few of my classmates, one classmate I saw almost got run over my a speeding car. The driver did stop, only to pull a foolish grin at my classmate.

Btw, I tried my hand at Hainese!@##$#$% Chicken Rice last night (sorry I'm not sure how you spell Hainese!@#!@$)... tasted not so bad, I think I'm prepared to cook a meal for me and my Malaysian housemate. Watched a horror movie last night - The Haunting in Connecticut, was freaked out at first, but towards the end, I found it quite funny. Don't ask me why.

I wore thongs to the library today. No, no, not g-strings, but comfy slippers. I washed all my shoes today after months of enduring Newcastle. Belilah BATA!